


Be Careful What You Wish For

by Lauded_Liar



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Threesome - M/M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23714359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauded_Liar/pseuds/Lauded_Liar
Summary: Dorian has a great fondness for the Inquisitor, a Tal Vashoth mercenary.  But the Inquisitor has found his release with Iron Bull, the two nearly inseparable.  But Dorian finds that his love and kindness win him... something, in the end.
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull, Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Be Careful What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> This is an attempt at getting back into writing after far too long a hiatus. Excuse the poor grammar and sentence structure. But... I had to share, for anyone else that has a love of AdoriBull and wants a little extra Qunari tossed in, for fun ;)

Dorian walked into the library of the fortress. It was amazing, the great circling staircase making it’s way up through the stacks of books. Already there were a couple of the mages the Inquisitor had brought with them to help, one a tranquil. It made him shudder to think of the existence it would be to never have dreams to not have emotions.  
There were also workers already running to and fro, no doubt the work of Cullen. The man was an insatiable work horse, and made sure that his subordinates also showed the same amount of work ethic the blonde ex-Templar exhibited. Measurements were being taken, bricks were being moved, large beams were being erected. They’d been there all of a week and already the place was bustling, changing, living again.

  
“So you’ve found yourself a little hidey hole, have you?” A deep, friendly voice said smoothly behind him.

Dorian jerked and looked over his shoulder. The large Qunari male stood smiling behind him, his slightly greenish-grey tinted skin was flushed from the work out the warrior no doubtedly had just finished.

“Ah, yes you know, I always prefered the company of the books to people. Books are so much less likely to try and stab you, after all.” Dorian motioned towards a templar in the distance that was glowering at him from afar.

“Well, you aren’t wrong.” The Inquisitor shrugged and then gave Dorian a half smile, winking one blue green eye at him. “I am still surprised you were willing to stay and help after the whole fiasco with the templars.”

Dorian grimaced, remembering the way his offers of help from the mages was rescinded, the glares from Cassandra and Cullen still a fresh scar on his delicate psyche. “Well, I figured with so many templars around you’d need someone of stable mind.” He shrugged and turned away again from the Inquistor to look again at the books that were in remarkably perfect shape. “We’ll need to restock these shelves. Some of these tomes are... well... extremely outdated. Although surprisingly good shape.”

“I’ll bring it up to Josephine.” The large Tal Vashoth walked past him, clearly headed to go speak with the spy master that had set up roost in the up levels of the tower. He paused, looking over his shoulder at the Tevinter mage. “I’m glad you stayed. The Templars weren’t my first choice either but... I think with the current state of things, they may be our best option. Thank you, Dorian.” The large warrior left on softly padded footsteps, leaving Dorian standing staring at the large broad back as it made it’s way through the rubble towards the crow’s nests.

****

“And stay dead!” Sara cried triumphantly at the slumped bodies of the Venatori on the ground around their feet.

  
Malaahn Adaar, or Inquisitor if you were feeling the need to be formal, huffed and puffed as he put his large sword back in it’s sheath, hooking his shield over his right shoulder.

  
Iron Bull, also puffing loudly, wiped blood and guts from his face, set his axe down on the ground and leaned against it. “Always a pleasure to travel with you, Inquisitor. I never got to kill so many Vint’s as I do when I’m out with you!”

  
“Pleasant.” Dorian drawled, tucking his staff under his arm. “Well, that was quite exciting. Shall we continue onward?” He motioned towards the road leading up the way to camp. They were all exhausted after the fight with the demons, and now Venatori mages. The Western Approach desert was hot, sand was everywhere. The dragon flying around in the distance did nothing to assuage Dorian’s fears.

  
The Inquisitor sighed heavily, his face already looking drawn and tired. The whole fiasco with the Grey Wardens was starting to drain on him. Dorian knew that the Tal Vashoth had both Hawke and Blackwall breathing down his neck about the whole thing. It was why the big qunari hadn’t brought the Warden along with him on this particular mission.  
Dorian frowned and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small vial of lyrium potion. It went down like fire through his throat, but the fire quickly turned into a warmth that filled the void in his chest. Using a wild amount of magic always left the void. It was like running a hundred miles and never having to take a step. Naturally, the emptiness would refill, but it was a slow process. And Dorian wanted to help the Inquisitor now.

  
The Tevinter stepped up to the qunari, reaching out and laying a hand on one large, rippling shoulder. The large man looked down at him, big green-blue eyes widening slightly. Dorian could feel the other two in the party watching him as he sighed and closed his eyes, concentrating on sending “thought tendrils” to release the tension in the other’s muscles. It wasn’t much, he didn’t know a lot about the art of healing magic. But he knew enough, after living with someone suffering with the Blight, to help relieve pain.

  
“Dorian, what... Oh...” A loud, long sigh of relief escaped from Adaar’s lips as the magic wound it’s way through his body, relieving tension that had been building up over the past few weeks.

  
“Hey, Vint. Why don’t you give me some of that?” Iron Bull barked, a large grin stretching his scarred face.

Dorian snorted and then stepped away from the Inquisitor, watching as the big qunari stretched and shifted. “Better?”

“Much. That was truly amazing, thank you, Dorian.”

“Mages aren’t all awful, you know.” Dorian puffed up a bit at the compliment from the Inquisitor.

“Yeah, except they get all loopy headed and let demons run amok in their skins, and stuff.” Sara scoffed, adjuting her bow over her shoulder. “I’m starving, we should go get some food. I could eat a whole druffalo!”

“Me too, Sara! Let’s get going.” Iron Bull reached out, slapping a hand on the Inquisitor’s shoulder, pulling the other qunari along with him as they all headed out towards the camp nearby.

Dorian frowned a little, falling back from the three ahead of him. He wasn’t normally the odd one out of a group, but was feeling a little bit so with the way the two qunari were getting along. Sara was just a weird one and Dorian wasn’t sure he wanted much to do with the loony elf in the first place.

As they walked into the camp, the smell of stew and fire baked flat breads filled the air. Dorian felt his stomach grumble angrily, but he ignored it, heading towards his small tent set up near the back of the camp. The Inquisiton soldiers currently stationed at the small out post fawned over the qunari Inquisitor, asking if he needed anything, if he had any wants.

Dorian would have been disgusted except for the way the Tal Vasoth mercenary seemed to flush with embarassment at the way he was treated by the soldiers, instead of acting like a giant ass. Which endeared the qunari to Dorian. He was finding that he was enjoying the other’s company. The company of the rest of the band was still up for discussion, but he was rather fond of the Inquisitor.

As they settled down for the evening, Iron Bull settled down next to the Inquisitor, reaching over to settle one large grey arm on the other qunari’s shoulder. A flash of jealousy rang through Dorian’s chest, tightening his throat and sending tingles down his arms. But he didn’t show it, merely eyeing the others as they all sat around, bowls of stew in hand being mopped up by pieces of slightly charred flat bread.

“Ha! I think we could make them do a cartwheel!” Adaar said, agreeing with an inane comment by Iron Bull about making dead bodies do tricks. “Dorian! You could set them on fire!”

Iron Bull roared at the suggestion by the other qunari, slapping his large leg and spilling stew as he did so.

“Yes, I suppose I could. We could start a travelling show! Be famous from here to Denerim.” Dorian remarked sarcastically.

Sara, mouth full of potato, chimed in happily “I know some people in Denerim!”

Adaar and Iron Bull both began to laugh even harder, the large, hulking, horned men honestly finding the idea of a flipping body catching fire in the middle of Denerim markets far too amusing for their own good.

A few Inquisition soldiers joined in the laughter and Dorian himself found a small chortle falling from him lips.

Later that night, as everyone was settling down (Dorian could already hear the Iron Bull snoring loudly in the tent near his own), there was a soft ‘ahem’ at the front of his tent flap. “Come in.” Dorian called, slightly apprehensively.

  
A great horned head slowly appeared through the entrance of the tent, great curved horns gently navigated away from the interior of the tent, dark black hair pulled into a neat bun at the nape of a thick neck. The Inquisitor stepped in, eyeing Dorian carefully.

  
“I just... wanted to say thank you for earlier. Whatever it was you did, it really helped. I’ve had pain in my shoulder for a few days now but... well, let’s just say you were wonderful.”

  
Dorian felt a small smile spread on his face and he nodded his head towards the big Tal Vashoth. “I am here to serve. Although don’t expect me to start feeding you grapes in the bath any time soon.”

  
Adaar smiled brightly, his cheeks glowing in the candle light. “I have a feeling the positions would be reversed.”

  
Dorian sputtered slightly, clutching at his heart. “Me? Perish the thought! I would never expect the Inquisitor to feed me grapes! Unless of course, he offered.” Dorian winked boldly at the qunari male and felt a thrill of excitement as the other chuckled softly and his blush deepened. “How are you holding up? I feel like we haven’t been able to really talk much since this whole thing started.” Dorian sat down on his sleeping spot, patting the slightly cushioned, decorated sleeping roll. There were perks to being one of the main men of the Inquistion, but those perks only went so far.

  
Adaar’s great head tilted slightly to the side, as if he were listening intently to the sound of snore coming from the tent just over. “Ah... Well... honestly so much has happened I haven’t really had the chance to take a breath or even think about what’s been going on.” He said, stepping towards Dorian for a second before taking a step back again. “I... I should really be going to sleep, we have an early morning tomorrow.”

  
Dorian covered the frown that threatened to twist along his mouth. His hand itched to touch that strong shoulder again. “Ah. I was going to offer another dose of ‘whatever it was I had done earlier’ for you. But if you must go to sleep, I understand.” He tried to hide the disappointment he was feeling. It was hard enough to get close to anyone being a Tevinter mage, and he’d felt that him and Adaar had been at least forming a bond of some sort over the past few weeks.

The qunari paused in his retreat, his tired eyes watching Dorian carefully. “Where did you learn to do that anyway?”

“You learn quite a few things when you travel around. And take care of a man dying of the Blight.”

The Inquisitor thought about that statement for a second before nodding slowly. “Well... I’ll take you up on that offer another time. I... should go to sleep. I just wanted to say thank you again.” Large bow shaped lips turned up at the corners and a tilt of a great head was the last thing Dorian saw as the heavily muscled warrior walked out of the room and back to his own tent.

****

It had been nearly a month since Adamant. Dorian was still having nightmares of the things he saw while in the fade. Demons came to him in his dreams, threatening to send him back to the Great Nightmare if he didn’t acquiesce to their demands. He’d been relatively distant with the Inquisitor over the past couple weeks, trying to gather his thoughts about what he’d seen in the fade. He’d seen so much horror. So many loved ones dead, dying. And every night it replayed. After the events at Adamant, the Inquisition had been taking a breath, organizing it’s resources, expanding it’d reach. There were rumors that there was a ball to be held at the Winter Palace soon, and Leliana was sure that it was when Corypheus was planning on assassinating the Empress Celine.

  
Dorian had been spending hours pouring over tomes sent from the archives of Tenvinter to find just who Corypheus was. If he was anyone at all. He had continually asked the few Grey Wardens left what they knew of him, had exhausted Varric for anything he knew. The dwarf now just told him ‘Look Sparkles, if I knew it I told you.’ Dorian didn’t even have to say a word to him anymore.

  
He generally tried not to think about the fact that Alexius was gone, but it was when he ran into a dead end such as this one that he often wished the older mage was still there to bounce ideas off of. It had been so easy to talk about ideas and thoughts with the mage. But wishing things had gone differently would never change the future.  
Dorian needed a walk. He’d been couped up inside for over three days, staring at volume after volume. His eyes were beginning to strain from the candle light. Although the weather had been rather dreadful for the past couple of days, it was now shining and bright outside. Good enough weather for a walk around the battlements. Maybe Dorian would even be so lucky as to catch sight of some of the strapping young recruits practicing their grappling skills.

He headed out, giving a brief nod to Solas as he passed. The elf was buried nose deep into a tome of his own, but what he was studying Dorian had no idea. The elf had easily brushed him off when he asked, or if Dorian had asked him about Corypheus.

  
He walked out into the great hall. The whole of SkyHold had been under construction nearly day and night for the past three months since they had been in the stronghold. There were only a couple standing trellises still where the crews were working to restore the roof on the inside of the building. But otherwise the place was nearly done. It had fires blazing day and night, dignitaries from all over the world were talking in soft tones around the great hall. Dorian glanced up towards the imposing throne where the Inquisitor sat on occasion, judging a few who had done grievous wrongs against the Inquisition that warranted a trial.  
He stepped out into the late morning sun, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden bright light. The sounds of swordplay clashed with the gentle drifting sound of bird song. The air was warm and bright against his skin. Dorian walked down the stairs, eyeing the one person he wished to speak with. The one who had come by and given him tea and biscuits when he was staying up late.  
The Inquisitor.  
It reminded him of when Felix was alive, bringing him treats from the kitchens when he would study late into the night. But there was a tense sexual attraction that Dorian was feeling around the Inquisitor. It didn’t help that every time the qunari was around him they both flirted relentlessly. Not out right ‘I want your cock in my mouth’ but it was a subtle and easy flirtation. He enjoyed watching the other’s cheeks turn pink when he made the comments too bold.  
He could see the Inquisitor practicing over in the small yard where Cassandra usually practiced. But she was not around assisting the qunari. As he got closer, Dorian realized that the Inquisitor was speaking with Iron Bull. The two qunari moved close to each other, grins on both their faces before Adaar grabbed Iron Bull’s arm and pulled him in for a kiss.  
He was only half way across the yard when Dorian had to stop. He’d heard the rumors. Knew that there was possibly something going on between the two qunari. But he’d only assumed that it was people making commentary because... well, two qunari in the same room. Not something people in Orlais or Ferelden see very often. And Dorian had been so wrapped up in his studies he hadn’t noticed... Hadn’t thought to even ask.

  
Turning quickly on his foot, the Tevinter headed back towards the castle. He felt his heart racing in his chest but did his best to walk as slow and dignified as he could. Even if he felt suddenly, strangely, betrayed. Although, why should he. Why would he feel that way? The two qunari were always together, practicing together, traveling together. Even if Dorian was usually with the group when they ventured past the walls of SkyHold, he wasn’t always by the Inquisitor’s side. But Iron Bull was.

  
He had become the Inquisitor’s right hand. And Dorian had been too stupid to see the forest for the trees. Of course a little flirtation here and there didn’t mean anything. He knew that. He’d flirted plenty of times with people he had no interest in. So why then was it this time that hurt the most?

  
Quickly Dorian turned again and headed towards the battlements. He walked up the stairs, ignoring a cautionary glance from a nearby Templar as he stepped past him. He could feel the hot hurt boiling inside his chest, tearing inside, threatening to rip his heart out.

  
And why did he care? He stopped at the edge of the battlements and stared out over the white mountain scape. Signs of spring were in the air, patches of green far below beginning to peek through the melting snow. Why would Dorian care if Adaar was with Iron Bull. They were Qunari, he was Tevinter. He couldn’t even believe he had a thing for a qunari. They were mortal enemies.

  
His fingers gripped the edge of the stone tightly, his knuckles turning a purplish white with the grip. He was being childish. He was far too old for these silly adolescent feelings to be making him act this way. Next he’d be swooning, asking the Maker just why was love so unjust? And maybe he’d even write in his journal about the experience. Tell it all about how his heart had been broken by a man that never even knew he cared?

  
Dorian couldn’t stop the scoff that ripped from his throat. It left him feeling deflated and his throat raw. His grip on the stone lessened slightly and he sighed as he stepped back, turning to walk along the great battlements of the fortress.

  
His mind drew blank as he walked, a blessing from all the thinking he’d had to do for the past few days. There was a slight movement next to him and Dorian glanced beside himself, expecting to see a guard hustling past to get to his duty post before Cullen found him and beat him for insubordination. Instead he just saw the young face of Cole. The young man looked at him with his wide, all seeing eyes.

“You’re hurting” Cole stated. Matter of fact and to the point.

“What do you want, Cole?” Dorian asked, not really in the mood to deal with the spirit child.

“Why are you hurting? The Inquisitor... Breaking, falling, feeling as if alone, always alone. No one there to catch you. Why?”

“Go away.” Dorian growled, turning from the spirit and looking back out over the snow covered mountainsides.

“You awoke me. I was sleeping, but your pain it was so loud. I want to help.” The youngster stepped forward and stood next to Dorian.

Dorian rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. Leave me be, Cole. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

The spirit child nodded and then just stood there, looking out over the same vista. He didn’t say anything, but didn’t leave Dorian alone either. The mage looked at the spirit child and sighed heavily before turning and watching as a large hawk circled above.

The sun was beginning to set when Dorian came out of his reverie. A chill wind blew over him, bringing goose flesh to his arms. He shook his head and looked to the side. Only a guard was pacing back and forth at the corner of the battlements, occasionally looking at Dorian as if he had grown two heads.

  
Cole was nowhere to be seen. And Dorian had a very vague impression that the boy had been there at all. But he felt much more at ease, less as if he were spiraling out into a hormonal cyclone of loneliness and loss.

  
The smells of the basic rationed dinner for the troops wafted through the air. Probably basic barley stew and rye bread. Dorian was thankful he got meat more than not, and usually whatever fresh vegetables were delivered up to the fortress.

  
But if the troops were being fed, then it meant at least dinner was going to be brought to his study soon. And if he didn’t eat it, he knew that there were sneaky hands that would take what they could before he noticed.

  
Dorian turned and headed back towards the castle, feeling at least a little bit lighter than he had earlier. Maybe he would write in his journal about the experience. And he would also speak to Cole about it as well. The other had the uncanny knack of disappearing, but just what was it he hid when he did the hiding act.

****

The Winter Palace had been a huge cluster of messes. In the end they had left Celine on the throne with Briala as an over seer, of sorts. Dorian had to admit, he had enjoyed the ball immensly, barring the murder and the snooty Orlesian nobles. He had enjoyed when the Iron Bull was taunted mercilessly by the nobles, finding a strange joy in joining them. The Qunari had glowered at Dorian, knowing exactly what the Tevinter was doing but couldn’t quite get around doing the same to him. The Qunari had been outnumbered and it had been delicious.

  
By the end of the evening though, Dorian had found Adaar standing out on a balcony alone. He’d stood next to Inquisitor, reaching over and holding the large, calloused hand briefly. The other had looked tired, exhausted. He had smiled at Dorian, squeezing his hand briefly with affection. 

  
“You are truly one of my best friend’s, Dorian.” He had said, his voice rumbling quietly through the late evening air. Dorian could hear the tired tension in the tone and he longed to reach up and touch the strong, handsome face. He wanted to kiss the other and tell him it would be alright, that he would do anything for him. Their eyes were locked for what felt an eternity.

  
But the Iron Bull had come out and Adaar’s attention was quickly stolen away from Dorian. The two Qunari seemed to forget that Dorian was even there and he had faded away into the ballroom, finding a rather strapping young Orlesian to spend the rest of the evening with.

But they were back at SkyHold now, and the fortress was even more bustling, if it had been possible. There were so many dignitaries in the main hall that Dorian had to practically push his way through to get to the door of the Inquisitor’s private room. It was a gamble but he had the need to speak with the other about things he had found in the tomes. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring it up to the War Council just yet. He was still unsure about his findings.

  
He had dropped a hint to Leliana, and the spy master had been very impressed, advising him that she would have her people look into it. But he needed a sounding board, he needed someone to listen to him while he pondered out loud the findings. It was too good to be true that he possibly found something that had to do with Corypheus. It was just... He had been looking for so long, any shred of hope. And between the traveling, and the politicking and everything else... Dorian found he missed just sitting with the Inquisitor and speaking with him.

  
As he walked up the creaking wooden stairs, past the waving banners that lined the hall, Dorian felt his heart kick up in his chest. He had known the Inquisitor for over half a year by this point. Had spent so much time around the other. His throat grew dry as his hand touched the cool wooden door that led into the other’s private chamber. He remembered watching Iron Bull and the Inquisitor dancing freely at the Winter Palace, the lumbering warriors light as feathers out on the dance floor. Both unable to remove their eyes from each other, grins as wide as serving platters on each face.

  
Dorian cleared his throat and pushed through, going into the room. He paused briefly, suddenly nervous that he may walk in on something he wasn’t sure he wanted to be involved in. But there was nothing to be heard but a gentle rustle of paper from above. He stepped lightly up the stairway and into the grand room.

  
“My, this is impressive. I’m honestly a little jealous right now. Even my rooms back in Tevinter weren’t this grandiose.” He stepped around the balustrade, making sure to twitch his hips out in an overly grand motion.

  
Adaar looked up at him, his green-blue eyes lifting from the mound of paperwork in front of him. “Dorian.” He said, sounding far more pleased than he looked.  
“Well, that is quite the load of paperwork you have in front of you. Have you gone cross eyed yet? I always find after a few hours I start to go a little cross eyed and the words begin to dance around like little fairies. Can’t make heads or tails until I have a fresh cup of tea and look at something else for a spell.”

  
Adaar smiled and stood up as Dorian sashayed closer to the big wooden desk. “I don’t see any tea with you.” The Qunari remarked, his smile widening a little as Dorian stopped and half sat on the edge of his desk.

  
“Well, no. I’m not a servant. I’m a Tevinter mage. I’m only here to be a slight annoyance to the Chantry. And occasional tag along to your expeditions.”

There was a low rumbling chuckle that drifted from the Tal Vashoth and drifted pleasantly through the room.

“But for you? I would gladly fetch someone to bring some tea.”

The chuckle grew to a laugh and the Inquisitor move to sit on the desk beside Dorian. His warmth beside the mage easing the other into a gentle lean against the solid form. “I’m glad you stopped by, Dorian. I feel as we haven’t spoken together in awhile. At least not since the Winter Palace. And that was.... almost a fortnight ago.”

  
Dorian nodded and sighed dramatically. “I suppose the greatest man in the world is just too busy for little me.” He shrugged, making a slight pouty face as he looked up at the big Qunari’s face. Adaar’s eyes widened and he looked shocked at the idea.

  
“I’m never too busy for you, Dorian. Only... Maybe too busy to go looking for you all the time.” The qunari shrugged and scratched at the stubble growing on his chin. His eye’s twinkled slightly as he looked at Dorian from the corner of his eye.

“Yes well. We Tevinter’s are known for being surprisingly difficult to locate. Which, speaking of difficult to locate... I’ve found more information about who exactly Corypheus is. I think this will help us immensely in slowing the numbers of the Venatori. And also, we should be able to gain more support back in Tevinter. Which will be a great boon when this whole thing come’s to a head. As it will.”

Adaar nodded and sighed heavily, standing up and pacing towards the open window. His shoulder’s were slumped and his head hung low on his chest as he looked out over the wide open of the courtyard below.

“Inquisitor?” Dorian stood up and walked over to the Qunari, reaching out a hand and touching one strong greyish arm. “Adaar?”

The other man was silent for a long time, staring out the window, watching the people below move to and fro going about their daily tasks. Dorian waited, quietly, his hand resting warmly against the other’s arm.

Finally the Tal Vashoth moved and turned, looking down at Dorian with a sad look. The Inquisitor was usually quick with his wit, ready to come back with a snappy remark. His eyes were usually so full of life. Or... they used to be. Dorian’s eyes searched the other’s face, taking in the way his brow wrinkled as if concerned, the way his eyes seemed strained, squinting as if he were tired. Tired... that’s how Adaar looked. That’s what it was that haunted his face so much lately.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Dorian. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” His eyes widened slightly in shock that he had admitted that to the mage, and the qunari backed away a step before turning and walking off towards the open balcony doors of the room. A cool late spring breeze drifted into the room, bringing with it a scent of warm dirt and melting snow.

Dorian followed him, feeling his heart crushing in his chest. He’d never heard any mention of doubt in the Inquisitor’s voice before. The qunari had always been so sure of himself and what he was doing. He never seemed to think twice about what it was that he was doing or the path that he was taking. Even when sitting on the giant throne down in the main hall, the man was always so confident, so sure of his decisions.

Dorian reached a hand out again and gripped the other’s shoulder. It was solid, warm, real beneath his finger tips. “I believe in you. And we’re all here for you. We’re all here to make sure you can, you will. There’s nothing you can’t do. I mean after all, you made an Empress the servant of an elf. That’s pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“It’s not that. It’s not what I choose in the moment. It’s the waiting. It’s the anticipation, the knowing that all these people will die. They’ll all suffer. And no matter what choice I make, no matter what I do... It won’t change that. I’m leading these people to their deaths. I’m leading you to yours.”

Shock spread it’s way across Dorian’s face. “And I would follow you to the ends of Thedas. I would give my very last breath if it meant you had one more.”

Adaar turned and looked at him, his face sadder than it’d ever been. His lips pulled down into a frown and he shook his head. “But I would rather you live. I would rather you have a full life. I don’t want anymore death. It has been nothing but death.”

“But think of all the life you’ve saved. If it hadn’t been for you, far worse would have befallen us.” Dorian took his hand from the Inquisitor’s shoulder and reached up to touch his face, his thumb tracing along beneath the other’s eye, tracing the soft skin above his cheek. And then it happened. He couldn’t stop himself. His other hand reached up, cupping the other side of the Inquisitor’s face, gently pulling the great man down. And he leant over Dorian, his great height and immense size against Dorian’s own normal human size. And their lips pressed together. And it was warm, and wet, and Dorian felt as if his heart would beat out of his chest and straight into the Inquisitor’s chest.

Where their hearts would entwine and he could die as a happy man.

A large hand grabbed at Dorian’s waist, pulling at his belt, pulling him closer to the warm, strong body in front of him. A gasp escaped his lips as those strong arms picked him up, and he was lifted up, his chest pressing firmly against the Inquisitor’s chest. The other’s kiss became more hurried, wetter as if he would try to gobble Dorian right up.

It caused electric shocks to tingle up and down Dorian’s spine. The electricity built up in his stomach and groin, causing Dorian to gasp in pleasure.

Those large, strong arms carried Dorian and tossed him onto the bed. Dorian gasped and quickly sat up, staring at the Inquisitor and letting a small smile spread across his lips. He had been waiting for far too long for this.

Adaar removed his shirt, tossing it haphazardly to the side. His chest was broad, strong. Marred by a few scars that criss-crossed along the otherwise smooth skin. Dorian felt his mouth water as he took in the large man’s form. Dorian reached his hands towards the narrow waist, his fingers grasping at the smooth warm flesh, grabbing at the well muscled abdomen. His efforts were rewarded as the Inquisitor moved to crawl onto the bed, snaking his way over Dorian’s body.

“I believe there’s far too much clothing between us.” Dorian gasped, his hips bucking up towards the qunari as the other laid his weight down onto him. Adaar only chuckled and covered Dorian’s mouth with his own, tongue searching hungrily to enter his mouth.

It was quick, and heavy, and slightly painful. He’d never been with a qunari before but the body matched the equipment and Dorian found he almost couldn’t handle the amount of man that was suddenly inside and around, over and over. It was noisy, and hot, and everything that he could have asked for. His orgasm spilled from him like hot white flames, his fingernails scratching long dark red marks along the Inquisitor’s shoulders and arms. He clawed at the other in a desperate attempt to keep himself from flying off into the abyss of unconsciousness.

It was over too quickly, for Dorian’s taste. And yet it was blissful and he wouldn’t change what had happened. His body thrummed with his post orgasm nerves. The Inquisitor huffed as he caught his breath. Both were laying on the bed, legs entwined, backs sticking to the ruffled sheets. As the other’s breathing evened out, Dorian lifted himself up on his arm and looked down at Adaar. But the qunari was quickly asleep, his breath back to an even pace, his skin lightly damp from the exertion of their tumble. Dorian leaned over and gently placed a kiss on the edge of the other’s nose, reaching a hand out to take the other’s in his own, threading their fingers together. He lay his head on the slowly rising and falling chest, listening to large heart beat “ba-bum, ba-bum”.

Dorian allowed himself to fall asleep to the gentle sound of the Inquisitor’s sleep.

“Well, I thought it was strange when neither of you showed up for dinner. But now I see it’s because you had dessert first.” A gruff voice startled Dorian out of his sleep. He jerked awake and was suddenly greeted with the large frame of Iron Bull. His grey skin was dark in the fire light, his eyes shadowed from the torches behind him, his facial expression was unreadable. Dorian felt his face turn red and he quickly pulled away from the Inquisitor’s laying form, the other qunari rolling to the side to sit up on the edge of the bed.

“Bull...” Adaar started, his voice crackling slightly with sleep. “This isn’t what it looks like.” He said, rubbing at his eyes and sighing as he slumped forward over his knees. It looked exactly like what it was.

Dorian was quickly gathering his clothing from the floor, trying his best to not make eye contact with the giant qunari looming at the end of the bed.

“Well, it looks like I wasn’t invited. Should I leave? Or may I join?” Bull said, his mouth tilting upwards at the corners. His face was still darkened but Dorian could see the amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Dorian paused in putting his pants back on, like a deer in the headlights. He supposed if the Iron Bull was going to kill him for this, he would have already started to do so. And there wasn’t much Dorian could do against the qunari if he did decide to murder him.

“Bull..” There was a slight warning in the Inquisitor’s voice and Dorian swallowed thickly, returning to the task of pulling his pants up over his hips.

“Sit.” Iron Bull barked at him, pointing towards the bed.

Dorian quickly sat down, feeling a need to apologize but knew that nothing coming out of his mouth was better than him attempting to weasel his way out of the situation.

Iron Bull crossed his arms over his chest, the smile that had teased his mouth now gone.

“This is something that we need to talk about and it’s been a long time coming.” He gruffed out. Dorian glanced over at Adaar who was now standing, in his full nude glory, and facing the Bull.

“Well, we’re here. Let’s talk about it. But first, I’m sorry. To both of you, it was a moment of weakness and I-”

“Quiet, kadan.” Iron Bull held up a hand towards the Inquisitor, but his eyes were locked onto Dorian. “So you finally got what you wanted, Tevinter. How was it?”

“Bull! Don’t tell me to be quiet! Leave him out of this, it was-”

“I’m not mad!” Bull quickly turned to the Inquisitor, the light from the torches showing the anger in his eyes “I’m just.... concerned. I care for you a lot, kadan. But... if this is something you want..”

“I...” Adaar shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his large frame moving back and forth from foot to foot.

“And.. I’m also a little hurt I wasn’t invited!” The smile was stretching over his lips again, and Dorian felt the tightness in his stomach start to loosen.

Dorian swallowed thickly, unsure of what he should be doing. His usually quick tongue was swollen in his mouth and it was difficult for him to breath. “I... Should go.” He mumbled meekly.

Both qunari turned and stared at him, Adaar looking hurt and Bull looking... well, like Iron Bull.

“I’m sorry...” He mumbled, feeling tears stinging at his eyes. The absolute bliss he’d felt only a scant few hours before was now crumbling into a quick case of guilt and self pity.

“Why? Don’t be sorry about getting what you want, Dorian. I just wish there’d been more open communication about the whole thing.” Iron Bull shrugged his large shoulders. It always surprised Dorian when the Ben Hassrath agent was concise and his judgement clear. He always expected the qunari to just start... smashing things. ‘Arg, roar, qunari angry’ kind of thing.

“Sit down, Dorian. This isn’t going away, we may as well talk it out like normal rational beings. I guess.” The Inquisitor shrugged his own broad shoulders and sat back down onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

Bull looked between the two of them before his head fell back and a loud raucous laughter bubbled from his lips. Dorian felt his blood run cold with fear, his guts rolling. It was never good when Iron Bull laughed maniacally.

“You two look so worried!” He gasped after a long hearty chuckle. “Kadan... please... do you really think I would be so upset by a small tumble? I mean... I am a little hurt that you didn’t tell me you wanted more with Dorian, but... I can’t fault you. And I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Honestly I was surprised when you chose me over him.” Bull shrugged, his dark eyes squinted in amusement.

Dorian’s heart slowed to a relatively normal pace when he realized that Bull wasn’t about to go full Berserker on him. But there was a niggling sensation in the back of his mind that... maybe something else was about to happen. He looked at the Inquisitor, still sitting nude on the edge of the bed.

“So... I’m not about to be unceremoniously separated from my head?” He asked, swallowing the last of the sick taste of fear.

“No. At least not today, and not by me.” Bull shrugged. His tone of voice returned to it’s usual jovial lilt.

The Inquisitor, seeming to accept the fact that nobody was going to murder anyone else, leaned back against the headboard, completely unworried about his naked state. His arms raised and rested behind his head, and he sighed heavily.

The Iron Bull stared at the other Tal Vasoth, his lips twisting from a gentle smile into something with a lewd twist. Dorian suddenly felt as if he was intruding and once more began to slide his arms into his shirt, pulling the tunic over his head. Both the qunari looked at him with the motion. Dorian ran his hands down the front of the wrinkled shirt, clearing his throat noisily.

“You probably won’t need that soon enough.” Bull smirked, walking slowly towards the Inquisitor, a gleam in his eye.

Dorian’s face lit up to a shade of red that was probably almost purple and he stood up from the bed where he’d been tentatively sitting, stammering dumbly as he backed away. The Iron Bull’s hand grabbed the Inquisitor’s thigh, sliding it’s way slowly up the other’s leg, but his eye never left Dorian’s face.

Adaar’s breathing caught in his throat, and his own green blue eyes slid shut in pleasure as Iron Bull’s fingers tickled along the inside’s of his thighs, stopping just short of the other qunari’s private area. Not that it was very private to either of the two males in the room with him.

Dorian felt a quiver in his own loins and he backed away another step. He knew what was going on, he just wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a part of it. But the way both the other’s were watching him, the way the Inquisitor’s eyes were hooded with sudden amorous desire.

“C’mon, Dorian. I know you ‘Vints do a lot worse back home.” Iron Bull’s voice was suddenly thick with what Dorian could only assume was desire.

Dorian’s eyes flicked back to where the Qunari’s hand was now ever so lightly brushing over Adaar’s cock, a very faint brush, only enough to encourage the other to erection but not enough to give any kind of satisfaction.

  
“This is a safe place, Dorian. You don’t have to worry about anything that happens here leaving this room.” The Inquisitor sighed softly, his lips parting slightly as Iron Bull’s hand continued to trace barely there shapes.

  
Dorian’s eyes flicked from the Inquisitor and back to Iron Bull. “This is not how I expected this evening to go.”  
Iron Bull’s mouth twisted into a large grin, his hand completely taking Adaar’s erection. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it quite a lot. We all know you have a masochist inside you.”  
Dorian felt his eyes widen as he watched the Iron Bull lean down and forcefully kiss the Inquisitor, the Tal Vashoth groaning loudly even as Bull’s hands grabbed his horns and pulled the other up an towards his own bulging erection beneath his pants.

  
Swallowing thickly, Dorian felt his own excitement straining against the front of the pants he’d just pulled on. He was soon crawling across the bed towards the other two, enthralled as the Inquisitor’s mouth was filled with Iron Bull’s straining erection.

  
As he crawled across the bed, his hand reaching out to gently run along Adaar’s arm, he felt a hand touch his hair, almost reverently, and looked up into Iron Bull’s eye. The hand in his hair slid down to grab him by the back of the neck and pulled him up into a sloppy kiss, even as the sound of fellatio continued, the Inquisitor moaning thickly around his lover’s erection.

  
Sure, Bull had teased Dorian time and again, making lewd suggestions, occasionally bringing up the idea of Dorian joining him and the Inquisitor in bed. Dorian had just brushed it off as the other trying to make him feel uncomfortable as they journey around the country.

  
And here they were. Dorian felt a large hand, rough from sword play, caress his backside through his pants. His own throbbing erection twitched angrily against the front of his pants and he pulled away from Bull, glancing down at the Inquisitor still suckling wetly, hungrily. The hand in his hair tightened, just enough to pull but not enough to hurt and Dorian’s eyes flicked back up to the Bull.

  
“You can always say no. Just be honest with what you want, Dorian. Although I have a feeling that’s not a problem for you.”

  
Dorian’s heart skipped a beat and he licked his lips. “I always say try everything at least once.”

  
The grin that stretched across Iron Bull’s face was akin to a cat that had cornered a mouse. But as the Inquisitor pulled his pants down and began to kiss his hip bones, Dorian didn’t really care if he was caught in the trap.


End file.
